


Family

by redcandle17



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-18
Updated: 2010-02-18
Packaged: 2017-10-07 09:03:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcandle17/pseuds/redcandle17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arya plays with her nephew and has a conversation with his father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family

Arya plucked little Robb Arryn out of his cradle and set him down on the floor so Nymeria could sniff him. She sat cross-legged beside them, ruffling her direwolf's fur and her nephew's hair. The baby had been bald and red and funny looking the last time Arya saw him, but now he had a full head of dark hair and he was very adorable. "Robb," she said, and he gave her a toothless smile. "You don't look like Robb; you look like Jon or me."

The baby didn't answer, at least not in any way Arya could understand. He gurgled and spat. He hadn't yet learned to talk. Although his hair was darker than Arya's, black rather than brown, he had grey eyes like hers. She had never considered having children before but now she wondered if her baby would look like this if she had one. She thought of Gendry's thick black hair always falling into his eyes…

Nymeria yelped as the baby yanked on one of her ears, then she carefully took hold of one chubby little leg between her teeth and pulled him into the spot she wanted him. Arya smiled as her wolf began to bathe Robb. "They'll call you an Arryn and sew falcons on your clothes," she told him, "But don't believe them. You're a Stark, you're a wolf."

"What are you doing to my pup?" demanded a rough voice that was unfortunately familiar to Arya.

"He's a wolf cub not a puppy."

"Do you want to kill your sister? Get Robb out of that animal's mouth before she sees."

"Nymeria's not hurting him."

Sandor Clegane bent and snatched his baby away from the wolf. Nymeria growled at him and Arya scowled. "Whelp your own, she-wolf," he said. Arya didn't know whether he was addressing her or Nymeria.

"Where is that lazy bitch of a nursemaid? I swear, I'll fling her off this bloody mountain."

"I made her go away," Arya said, not wanting the serving woman to get in trouble because of her. "She didn't want to go but Nymeria chased her."

"And left her little lord to the wolves is what you're telling me."

"Doesn't anyone know?" Arya asked curiously. "How come Lord Arryn doesn't know?" She didn't have to say what it was that everyone should know.

"His lordship is too busy with his whores to look properly and the rest value their tongues too much to gossip."

"I could kill him," Arya offered. She'd hated her sister's husband ever since the first time she met him and he tried to kiss her when Sansa wasn't looking.

"I can kill him myself," Sandor said.

"You'll just gut him or cut his head off. I know ways that will make it look natural."

"Maybe. It's too soon. After the next one." Sandor tossed Robb into the air and caught him, smiling when his son reached out to touch the burned side of his face.

"Next one? When?!" Arya was embarrassed by how girlishly she squealed but only the Hound and Nymeria heard and Nymeria wouldn't tell and if Sandor laughed at her she'd remind him of how he'd cried like a baby _twice_.

"Ask your sister."

"I guess it'll be soon," Arya said. "Before you die. You're already old."

Sandor glowered at her. "I'm only three and thirty."

"Old," Arya said. "You could be my father."

"You'll meet your father again soon if you don't shut up."

Arya considered giving him a poke with Needle. Just a light one, she wouldn't do much damage. But it wouldn't be fair. He didn't move as fast as he used to on account of his leg.

"When are you going to run back to your blacksmith, brat?"

"I'll go when I want to. Sansa said I could stay as long as I like."

"She was being courteous when she said that."

Arya stuck out her tongue at him. "You can't make me leave. You're not the lord here."

There was a look on Sandor's face that she'd seen six years ago when she'd killed people with him in the riverlands. She wasn't afraid of him; Nymeria would eat him if he tried to hurt her. But she did feel bad for teasing him. "I could kill Harry," she offered again. Robb was cooing nonsense loudly. Sandor held him against his chest and patted his back. It was odd to see the Hound holding a baby, never mind _his_ son and her nephew. "Sansa could marry you then."

"She can't," he said. After a pause, he added, "Thank you, she-wolf."

Arya nodded awkwardly. She got up and headed for the door. "I'm going down the mountain. Nymeria wants to hunt." She left Sandor to put his son to sleep. Maybe she would run into Harry…


End file.
